


Growing Up

by Murdersfriesandgayguys



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Crying, Dream Smut, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, M/M, Prostitution, Smut, Will Graham is a Tease, dub con, its not really happening, lots of beheading talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murdersfriesandgayguys/pseuds/Murdersfriesandgayguys
Summary: Will Graham is a sculptor, creating artwork that adorns the most impressive boats. Hannibal Lecter is a hunter. Swift, smart and wanted by everyone in the village, but he only has eyes for Will.





	1. 15

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiranightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/gifts).



People often have a funny way of showing emotions. From kisses in the dark and still of the night time, hidden away behind an empty well to eating a stew full of the camp’s second best hunter’s muscular thigh. Yes, love works in entirely mysterious ways.

They had met by the bay one early autumn afternoon, sunshine glistening off the water, giving the woods an air of serenity and peace. A young, fifteen year old Will Graham, was toiling away at a boat, shaping the bow into a beautiful sculpted mermaid with flowing hair and a perfect body, a woman who could encapsulate men with nothing more than a flash of a smile. Will had a knack for sculpting, for making something beautiful out of something as mundane as a felled log and a sharpened chisel. He had an eye for the beautiful. His sculptures adorned every boat that the workers made, a badge of honour on the breast of their village. As he continued to work, he noticed a hunter standing in the shadow of a mature oak, staring at Will’s work. He glanced up and smiled slightly at the man, giving him a cheerful wave before going back to chiselling a hole into the beautiful siren’s face to soon become an eye. The men around him had started to stare, wondering what was going to come from this.

“Quite the little sculptor, aren’t you?” The voice came from nowhere and Will nearly jumped with the fright of it, the man who had been metres away now merely inches from his face, smiling down at the mermaid that was resting between Will’s knees, staring at it with an intensity that Will could feel burning on his skin.

“It’s rude to stare at another man’s siren.” Will teased, smirking slightly down at the ground, keeping an eye on his chisel as he wondered how the hunter was reacting to his words. What he wasn’t expecting, was a hand on the shoulder and breath close to his ear, whispering quietly,

“It’s only rude if it’s unwarranted.” The man laughed as he spoke, offering the same teases that Will had just moments before. Will shuddered, looking up at the man with quiet curiosity, a smile growing on his face when the man spoke again, laughing quietly at the words, “You know, you look famished. Would you like to take your break now and join me for dinner in my cabin?”

“Respectable boys don’t go to hunters cabins it’s in the worst possible taste.” He mumbled in response, knowing that his mother would be absolutely distraught if she knew he was sneaking into a hunter’s cabin to eat dinner with him, for all young boys and girls knew that once a hunter invited you over, you were to be wed to them. It was an old tradition within their village. A cabin was seen as one’s private quarters where only their most beloved and their children should have the privilege of occupying. An invite to a cabin was essentially a marriage proposal. It was only now that Will actually caught a glimpse of the man, staring up at him. He was dressed from head to toe in the finest deerskin he had ever seen, topped off with various leather necklaces and bracelets and a stunning pair of brown leather boots to finish the entire look. This man was no ordinary hunter. Will suddenly realised that the man whom he had captured the affections of, was none other than Hannibal Lecter, hunter extraordinaire. The man who was so fast that he could keep up with a buck running full speed through the forest. The man who was so quiet that not even a rabbit could hear him coming. Will suddenly let out a squeak and coughed, “But I am not a respectable boy...” he swallowed thickly. Will saw the hunter smirk then, watched as his strong arms flexed as he hoisted the sculpture off of Will’s lap in order to help him up,

“You are quite the charming boy, aren’t you? You do understand that you’ll be mine forever as soon as you set foot inside my cabin, yes?” oh Will understood alright. He understood that he was about to become a celebrity among all the other boys and girls of the village. He understood that he was going to wake up next to this man every day for the rest of his life. He understood that and he wanted it. So, with a devious smile and a quick pace, he followed Hannibal to his cabin, walking rapidly through the trees which were slowly becoming discoloured as the Autumn rolled in, shaking them from their branches and leaving nothing to hide. This was a hunter’s favourite time of the year. No leaves on the trees, noisy foliage underfoot made hunting deer an easy game. Well at least that was what he had been told. Will had never really been adept with a bow and an arrow, he was better at making the bows and arrows. A craftsman, not talented enough to wield the bow, but talented in his own way. The village slowly came into view, smoke rising from stone chimneys and children playing with wooden swords as their parents watched on, judging their skills. A person’s profession was decided at a young age in this town. By ten years old, a girl knew whether she was to be a weaver or a baker, perhaps even rear her first child. For a boy, by eight years old he knew whether he was to be a hunter, warrior, craftsman or farmer. It was a peaceful life, an easy life, but a short one for many.

As the cabin appeared before them, Will admired the fine brickwork, adorned with various hides and leathers which acted as curtains to shield his home from the outside world, Will began to get cold feet about all of this, staring at the door as if it would just disappear if he looked hard enough. Did he really want to promise himself to someone at age fifteen? After just meeting him moments before? Did he honestly love this man? No. Of course not. He had only just met him. He wasn’t ready for this. He took a deep breath and spoke firmly, making his point very clear to the hunter before him,

“I’m sorry, but I cannot step inside your cabin, as lovely as it is. I fear I might be too young for all of this. I’m afraid that I might lose my childhood before I’m ready to. You’ll have to wait until I am seventeen years old. Until then...” oh this was risky, “Would you like to join me behind the Well?” The Well was known for being the place where devilish boys and girls went with their suitors before promising themselves. An empty well, overgrown and private, hidden away from the prying eyes of the village, away from the awful gaze of Will’s mother and where he had taken many men before. Will was quite well known for being a tease. The hunters spent their stressful days taking that stress out on Will whether it be through talking or other means. A hunter would surely turn down the offer, knowing the rumours that would come from following Will to The Well,

“I understand your offer and am more than happy to wait for you if that’s what you want. Would you care to lead the way?” Will’s body froze as he stared at the smiling hunter, his hand outstretched toward the boy expectantly, waiting to be led away to their destination. He swallowed thickly and gently took his hand, lacing their fingers. People were already staring, watching them closely and whispering to one another. They were all jealous. Of course they were. Everyone wanted to marry Hannibal Lecter. He was the ideal suitor for any woman. A man of fine genes who would produce fine children. They were all simply aghast seeing him walk off towards the infamous Well with a boy, let alone a boy as quiet and timid as Will Graham.

But love works in mysterious ways.

As they walked through the forest in silence, listening to the birds in the trees as they sang to them, Will was filled with a nervous energy that he couldn’t seem to get rid or. The feeling of Hannibal’s gloved hand in his own was enough to set him alight with sparks of nerves that coursed through his body, from his head straight to his groin. Really? Now was the perfect time for his hormones to play up? He sighed quietly, the walk seemingly taking forever, the hunter whistling a tune as they went. By the time the Well came into view, the evening was setting in, casting an orange hue around the already bronzed forest. Will took a shaky breath and led the man behind the stone structure, sitting down on the soft ground behind it and resting his back against the stone, inviting the hunter to sit down with him,

“I take it you know what usually happens when I take people back here, right?” He mumbled, watching as Hannibal laughed and sat next to him, pulling a hip flask out of his pocket and offering a swig of moonshine to Will. He took the flask, taking a bracing mouthful and swallowing it down, squeezing his eyes shut at the familiar burn of the alcohol in his throat.

“I have been told of the things you do here, but they do not interest me. All I want from you right now is to learn more about you. You have me truly encapsulated.” The man smiled, taking his flask back and taking a generous gulp from it, closing his eyes as it tore down his throat. It was a pleasant surprise for Will to just sit and talk with the man. Delightfully anticlimactic. He smiled over at him and shrugged,

“There really isn’t much to tell. I live with my mother and my dogs. I enjoy sculpting and whittling despite the fact that I originally wanted nothing more than to build those boats or sail them into open seas and just... relax on the water. I love to fish, but I don’t really get many chances to recently. I’m at peace with my career. I just never grow big enough to be a rower or a builder. So I was handed a chisel and the rest is history.” Everything Will said was tinged with sadness, littered with sad smiles and inflections. Was he really happy? No. Of course not. He wanted to sail. He wanted to explore the world, see what it held besides forests and cabins, but he wasn’t allowed. Boys like him weren’t allowed to do anything but whittle down wood, chiselling away at their own spirit every day they worked.

“A boy with a thirst for adventure is hard to come by. I admire your wanderlust.” Hannibal smiled, leaning slightly closer to him, “You know there are places that have snow all year round? And there are places that are so hot, there is nothing but sad and these terribly painful plants with spikes on them. The world truly is a marvel. It’s a shame you haven’t seen much of it yet.” All of this talk of these wonderful places had Will’s heart yearning for it, aching to get out there and explore.

“Are there places where it never stops raining?” He looked to the hunter who nodded once, a pleased smile on his face as he did, “And places where it never rains at all?” another nod and Will was becoming a bundle of excitement, barely able to contain himself, “Places where people don’t look like us? Don’t dress like us?” oh this was too much to bear.

“Yes. People look different every place you go. Some look similar to us, but none are ever the same. Every place has traditions, much like our cabins, some live in tents. However, just because they may look different does not mean that they are different. We are all human, after all.” Will’s jaw was dropped halfway to the floor by now, eyes wide and glistening. This man was so wise. So incredibly wise and wonderful and just perfect.

“If people are so different... do they feel things differently to the way we do? If I were to stand on a person from another land’s toe, would they scream?” he asked curiously, resting his chin on his hand as he stared up at the beautifully stunning man in front of him, “I mean- Well if I kissed someone from there... Would they- Well would they smile?” he blushed softly, feeling nervous all the sudden. He was hoping that Hannibal would catch where he was going, staring at those lips and pleading silently for a kiss.

“Well it depends on whether or not they asked for the kiss or implied that they may want a kiss. As for you... I can see you’re wanting, but I’m afraid I can’t oblige. You’ve said it yourself. You are much too young as of yet.” He gently cupped Will’s jaw in a gloved hand, causing Will’s blush to darken significantly, “As soon as you are old enough. As soon as you are... seventeen.” He smirked slightly. Will let out a terribly pained whine, looking away and huffing, staring at a mossy tree stump,

“No need to be an ass about it.” He grumbled, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his face in his knees. Hannibal rolled his eyes and tugged Will’s collar, making him jolt upright again,

“If you are allowed to turn down my marriage proposal, I am certainly allowed to turn down one kiss, as much as it pains me to do so.” Will groaned and grabbed the flask again, taking a long swig from it and swallowing thickly, “You shouldn’t drink so much. Boys can get into awful trouble when exposed to something as wicked as alcohol. I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble.” Hannibal reprimanded playfully, taking the flask from the boy who responded with an almost pained groan, bringing his head to rest upon the hunter’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Soon, he felt a hand on the top of his head, combing through his soft curls, untangling them. It felt wonderful, absolutely electric. The soothing nature of it, caused him to yawn and nuzzle up closer to the incredibly warm and strong hunter. The sleepy conversations that followed could only be described as completely wonderful. Will vented about his life and how awful it was that he wasn’t yet seventeen and Hannibal assured him that two years would absolutely fly by and that he’d be walking into his cabin in no time and leaving his shoes by the door right next to his own. It all felt too good to be true, too wonderful. Oh yes. Will Graham was already in love. Hopelessly and entirely in love. Perhaps it was merely his boyish emotions amplifying everything tenfold, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the fact that Hannibal Lecter was willing to wait two whole years to marry him. Willing to give up his chance of raising a family all because he wanted Will to wake up next to him every morning.

“Don’t you dare go back on your word, Hannibal Lecter, or so help me I will skin you like a deer.” He warned, but the threat was lost within the sleepy mumble that his sentence actually came out as. The hunter laughed and shook his head,

“You needn’t worry..." he stopped, trying to think of something, "I can’t believe my blunder. I seem to have neglected to ask for your name.” The man was very obviously embarrassed. Will could hear it in his tone. He grinned a sleepy grin, looking up at Hannibal with stars in his eyes,

“It’s Will. Will Graham.” The hunter smiled down at the boy and nodded, eyes glinting in the fading sunlight,

“Well Will. You needn’t worry because I am a man of my word. I wouldn’t dare break a promise, especially not one as important as marriage.” He assured and Will nodded, smiling as he returned his head to the man’s shoulder, feeling his arm tighten around his body, pulling him in close as if he were merely a child ( Which he wasn’t. Or at least he liked to think so). Within minutes he had fallen fast asleep in the hunter’s arms. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he really was until that strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer to a muscular body that screamed comfort to Will.

***

As the birds began to scatter away into their nests for the evening, destined to sing again in the morning, Hannibal Lecter carried the sleeping figure of a young carpenter to his home, laying him down in his bed and kissing his forehead. As a quick afterthought, he removed his sheep wool shawl from around his shoulders and lay it over the boy as a gentle reminder of the wonderful evening they had had together. With that, he walked back to his cabin, ignoring the obvious stares from the village women and the hollering from the drunken men.

He closed the door, setting his shoes and his coat aside before wandering to his kitchen and lighting a fire beneath the stove to make himself dinner. He examined his catch of the day closely, surveying the meat of the deer to find any impurities that may be present before cutting a section off and placing it into a wrought iron pan to cook it for his dinner. As the venison cooked, he went about lighting candles around his modest home, illuminating it in a soft, flickering glow. Oh how wonderful Will would look in this light, draped in white linen, the fabric falling off of his soft, beautiful body in waves. Oh the thought of it was enough to drive him insane. No. He had to wait. He had promised Will that he would wait. After all, in his own words, two years will be gone before he knew it and Will would be stepping into his cabin and leaving his shoes right next to Hannibal’s own. It was going to be wonderful. Of course it was going to be wonderful. They were perfect for one another. Hannibal’s quick tongue would blend seamlessly with the quick mind of the boy who had captured his affections so suddenly.

Through the haze of his daydream, he almost forgot that dinner was even cooking. He walked hurriedly to the kitchen and rescued the meat just before it caught, placing it down on a board to rest. He then set about cooking some root vegetables to go with it. Sweet carrots and parsnips. There wasn’t much choice in their village. Deer, sheep, carrots, potatoes, parsnips and the occasional pumpkin if the weather was kind. Hannibal didn’t mind. There was plenty one could do with a few vegetables and a good cut of meat. After his rather pleasant, albeit overcooked, dinner, Hannibal retired to his bedroom, sinking beneath the covers and allowing his memories from the day transfer themselves into his dreams which were filled with the face of Will Graham, accompanied by his sarcastic remarks and quiet jokes. He hadn’t slept that well in weeks. Months, even. Will was working absolute miracles.

***

It had been mere days since their last encounter before the two men found themselves sitting behind the Well again, sipping moonshine and telling stories. Hannibal just never ceased to amaze Will with his tales of lands so amazing that Will couldn’t even fathom their existence.

“I once met a man on an island, a land surrounded by water, who was speaking in a tongue I didn’t quite understand...” He laughed fondly at the memory before he could even finish the thought, beginning again as soon as he had regained his bearings, “We spent around three hours trying to explain to one another where we were from and why we were there. It was rather hilarious. A lot of pointing and charades.” He laughed again, this time with Will’s voice joining his own in harmony, laughing at the wonderful story.

“Did you ever find out what he was trying to tell you?” he laughed, lifting his head from his hand to see the look on Hannibal’s face.

“Oh yes he was trying to tell me that I was hunting on his land.” He smiled and shrugged, wrapping an arm around Will and pulling him close. “Do you know... I learned one word from him.” He smiled, “Vache.” He laughed, “It supposedly means ‘Cow’, but I’m not sure in what tongue.”

“Vache...” he mumbled, “Vache...” he sighed in wonderment, “That sounds amazing! I wish I could hear people speaking in that language! Wow.. Vache.” He practically squealed, pulling his knees up to his chest with a wide smile, “Some day you will, Dear. Someday you’ll see all the wonderful things that this world holds... All of the different people, different animals.” Will felt a squeeze on his arm, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he snuggled up closer to the man,

“Who knows, perhaps we’ll run away together some day. We could run away to an unknown land and make a new life together. Your dogs could come too.” He offered, lips ghosting Will’s ear and making him blush darkly.

“That would be nice. That would be very nice... We could build a little house by a lake where I can go fishing and you can hunt whatever animals we find for our food while I cosy up with the dogs by the fire... And then you could join me and we could... Do all of those things that married couples do.” He smiled, imagining their lovely little life together. Yes. That would be perfect. A chuckle rocked Hannibal’s body, causing it to shudder against Will’s cheek,

“Yes, Will. That sounds lovely.”

They sat there for hours after that, not saying a word, just enjoying one another’s company. Hands touched hair, noses hid in the comfort of the crook of a neck and sweet nothings were occasionally shared between one another. Other than that, it was silent. And that was the way it should be. People loving one another through silence, through stories, smiles and laughs. That was what love truly was. No matter what. Because love, although wonderful, works in mysterious ways.


	2. 15.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waking world becomes melded with the unconscious world. How was he to know?

Their trips became far more frequent over the passing months, the two men hiding away behind the Well and telling stories in the moonlight. Not a kiss had been shared between them, nor anything more than a hand hold or a brush of fingers through hair. They were courting. It was in good taste for them to get to know one another properly first before anything else happened. Will didn’t mind and Hannibal didn’t seem to either. They were happy together, completely an utterly at peace. One night as the winter rolled in and Will shivered with the cold, Hannibal’s mood changed. The trees seemed to be particularly gnarled this one evening, casting terrifying shadows along the frosty ground. Will sat with his hunter who seemed… different. More deadpan than usual. A caricature of himself almost. The young man looked up at his hunter, squeezing his arm to get his attention, a question burning within his mind that he needed an answer to.

“Do you come here with anyone else, Hannibal?” He asked curiously, hoping and praying that the answer was no. He had heard rumours that Hannibal had been seen disappearing off into the forest with Anthony Dimmond, not to mention the fine collection of hickeys that had started to adorn young Dimmond’s neck, “if you are I- well I just need to know, okay? People have started talking and I don’t want it to be true. Just tell me it’s not true.” He pleaded with The Hunter, desperately trying to convince himself that he wasn’t about to be completely heartbroken although he feared he would be. He hoped he wasn’t being too forward about the whole thing, hoping that Hannibal wouldn’t hate him for mentioning it. He watched as the hunter’s smile faded to a frown, his arm tensing within Will’s grip so the boy could feel the muscles there.

“I do come here, on occasion, with another boy. There is no love there. He merely owes me a couple of favours. It’s purely for sex, Will. I hope you understand that my affections lie with you and only you.” Will’s face looked as if he had just bitten into a lemon, a sour feeling filling his chest as water filled his eyes, threatening to spill over. He wouldn’t allow that. No way in hell would he allow that.

“Your affections lie with me and yet… you lie with another man here… in our place. In our place… I thought you were better than this Hannibal. I thought you were different to all of the other brutes that bring boys up here just to fuck them senseless and leave them crying in the dirt! I thought you loved me…” he let out a shaky sigh, quickly wiping his eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears, not wanting to seem the weak young boy that he secretly knew he was, “perhaps I was just being foolish. A foolish young boy…” He didn’t move, not looking at Hannibal, but expecting an explanation for all of this.

“Perhaps you were foolish to think that a man could suppress his urges for two years while he waits for his love to become mature enough. Perhaps you were foolish to imagine that I would still have need for you in two years, that I would still desire you by then.” The change in Hannibal was electric, shocking Will right in the heart. He stood, looked down at the hunter and took a deep breath before spitting on him,

“You make me sick, Hannibal Lecter. Don’t you dare talk to me again. Never again. If I see you anywhere near me I will skin you and wear you as a cloak.” He growled, no sleepiness masking the threat this time. No. This was absolutely venomous. The hunter wiped his face with a scowl, glaring at Will as he walked away. The boy could feel eyes on the back of his head with each step he took, but never bothered to look back. Half out of pettiness and the other out of fear. This man was dangerous and now, Will was on the opposing side, a deer for him to catch and keep as a trophy. Hannibal had never killed a man before. That much Will knew, but he was wholly convinced that he would be capable of it now. Now that Will had given him a reason to be.

Once out of sight, Will began running, sprinting through the underbrush, frosty leaves crunching underfoot as he went, guided only by the moon which hung low in the sky, desperately trying to get away from the threat that wasn’t even coming. He didn’t allow himself to cry, willing his tears away with desperation as he ran, his legs aching, his lungs burning as if he had swallowed fire. This was bad. This was very very bad.

As he approached a hole in the ground, too wide to walk around and too long to jump across, he had a decision to make. Find an alternative route or accept the fact that he was going to die soon anyway and attempt to jump it. He took a few steps back to get a run at it, chest heaving with frosted breaths in the wintery air. He composed himself, closing his eyes for a moment to prepare before running at the hole and leaping over it. He barely made it, foot slipping as he landed, causing him to sprawl out across the damp ground. He lay there for a while, sobbing and gasping for breath as the wetness in the soil seeped into his clothing, chilling him to the bone. That was when he heard that damned voice behind him, speaking softly as ever,

“You didn’t let me finish, dear Will. Perhaps you were foolish to think that I could wait for you, but you weren’t wrong. I am willing to wait for you.” Where was it coming from? Where was he? “You simply have to forgive my nature. You see, I’m a creature of pleasure. I desire nothing more than feeling good. You must understand that waiting for you isn’t an issue, but I do have to fill my time with something.” Where the fuck was he?! “So dry your eyes and follow me, my dear. Everything will be fine. Trust me.”

Will finally managed to lift his head, looking around the forest, but being met only by bare trees and frosted rocks. He sat up slowly and called out, “Where are you? Why can’t I see you…?” It was as if the trees were growing taller and taller, glaring at him from above. He had never felt so small, so scared.

“Just wake up, dear. What’s gotten into you? Wake up. You’ll miss work at this rate. You never sleep this late.” The voice melded into that of his mother’s, scolding him as expected. He groaned, his head hurting. Was that really all a dream? A sick, deluded dream? He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes,

“What happened last night? I don’t remember going to bed at all.” The fog in his brain began to clear and he suddenly realised, “I don’t have work today, mom. The shipyard is closed because they’re out on an expedition. But one of the sculptures went missing so I probably have to get to work on replacing it.” He sighed heavily and stood up, stretching out until his bones clicked and going to their washroom to wash his face. “There’s no water! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

“I asked you to do it last night and you refused, you foolish boy!” Came the reply, shrill and frustrating as ever. God his head hurt so terribly. What happened last night? Was he drinking again? No. He couldn’t have been. He hadn’t drank anything in months. He had promised himself months ago that he would stop after spending an entire night vomiting his guts up on his bed after a particularly interesting evening with some friends. It wasn’t worth the pain.

With a dramatic sigh and a glare to his mother, Will picked up the water pail and brought it out to the water pump, only a few metres away from his house. He began pumping the water into the bucket, panting with the effort of it. Why couldn’t they oil this thing like they had promised months ago? The frost was making it stick. He let out a whine of displeasure, listening to the sloshing of the water in the bucket and suddenly realising he needed to piss, badly. That was when he felt a hand on his shoulder and breath close to his ear, whispering, “Good morning, my dear boy.” As smoothly as freshly churned butter.

“Good morning. Can’t you see I’m busy? Do you not have a deer to be catching?” He groaned, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. He didn’t have time for fun right now. He was unwashed and in desperate need of relief.

“Oh well I presume that you know what day it is.” His hunter purred close to his ear, “It’s been six months since we met, Will.” Of course it had been. That’s why his hand was on his hip, his breath fogging his ear, a smirk most definitely on his lips. He was expecting something. He was expecting Will to break his promise.

“Look I’ll go to the Well with you later, but for now I have things I need to do.” He mumbled, picking up the water pail before pushing past Hannibal and back into his cabin. Immediately, he headed to the outhouse to relieve himself before going back inside to wash up and get fully ready for his day. A pair of sheepskin trousers to fight the cold, lined with wool, a shirt of deerskin and Hannibal’s sheep’s wool to top it all off. He put his shoes on, growling lowly when he felt how wet they were. Where was he last night? He decided he needed to ask Hannibal. He grabbed his bag and headed out the door, not bothering to say goodbye to his mother. She was hiding something from him, he could tell.

He trudged across the village, through alleyways of laundry hanging out in the chilly air by strings of wool and cavernous farmlands dotted with barns and animals. Why did Hannibal have to live so damn far away? Right on the outskirts of their settlement where nobody else lived. When he finally arrived on the doorstep, he knocked twice, calling, “Hannibal? I have something I need to ask you. Are you home?” He waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the wooden step. He could hear movement inside. Was someone in there with him?

He was jolted from his thoughts when Hannibal opened the door, barely dressed, hair wet and steam rising from his body. Ah. He had been in the bath. That explains the noise. “What can I do for you, William?” He smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. Will’s eyes widened. Oh god he was staring. Stop staring. Stop-

“Go and get dressed and then we’ll talk. You’ll catch your death out here. Go on, I’ll wait.” He demanded, pointing inside, but never allowing his finger to pass the threshold. He wasn’t going to give the hunter any reason to demand marriage.

As he waited for Hannibal to come back, he hesitantly looked around the small home, modest, but beautiful. Well decorated with skins and leathers and even a hand sculpted siren sitting on a wooden table. Will glared at it slightly. So that was the reason the boatmen had yelled at him for hours. Hannibal had stolen their siren. Great. More work. He stepped back from the door so not even his nose was within the inside of the cabin. He let out a breath that fogged the air as Hannibal arrived back out to the deck. “Okay… now I really do have to speak to you about something. It’s important.”

Hannibal smiled and grabbed Will’s hand in his own, beginning to walk with him somewhere more private. They walked through the woods, wandering off to the Well. The day was nice, a crisp wind blowing through the trees, shaking the leaf-less branches. As they neared their favourite place, Will noticed that something was off.   
“Have you seen anyone around here since we started walking? Any hunters? Or craftsmen?” He looked around, frowning slightly.

“No… I haven’t seen anyone. It’s not a worker’s holiday is it?” He stared up at the trees for a moment before, glancing around the forest in search of footprints or the sound of voices or even a stray hair on a branch. Nothing.

“That’s- well it’s definitely not a holiday for everyone… I know half the camp are out on a siege, but there should be some people around…” he shook his head, not wanting to stray off topic, “Come on. I need to talk to you.” He dragged the man off to the Well, sitting him down on the wall.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me about, Will? I do love seeing you so motivated.” He purred and Will shook his head, slamming his hand over Hannibal’s mouth to stop him talking.

“Shhhh! Just listen!” He took a deep breath, trying to ignore Hannibal’s fond chuckles and smiles, “I had a- Oh god this is the most idiotic thing in the world.” He covered his face with his hands, groaning and shushing Hannibal again when he tried to talk.   
“I had a dream last night that you were- Well that you were bringing Anthony Dimmond here to sleep with him. Is it true or am I going crazy?” He mumbled, watching as Hannibal’s eyes went wide, very obviously surprised.

“William… Why on earth would I be sleeping with Anthony Dimmond of all people? I’ve promised myself to you already. Why would I sleep with anyone else when I have you to look forward to in only two years?” Hannibal spoke as if it were absolutely obvious that he wouldn’t sleep with someone else. Will suddenly felt guilt wash over him, feeling awful for even considering that his lover would be unfaithful.

“I’m sorry, Hannibal, it was just so real. He had- he had hickeys on his neck and he- oh god just forget I said anything.” He covered his face with his hands, blushing darkly as he felt strong arms wrap around him and pull him in close as that same soothing voice washed over him,

“Thank you for confronting me, Will. Even if it wasn’t true, I’m happy that you feel comfortable enough with me to be able to tell me these things and yell at me should you need to.” He rubbed Will’s back with a strong, gloved hand, causing him to snuggle up close and nuzzle his nose into the crook of his neck to fight the cold. He sat there for a while, just listening to the sound of Hannibal’s breathing, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest.

“I wish we didn’t have to wait… I wish we could just do what everyone else does up here. I mean- I’m glad that were waiting until marriage, but at the same time, sitting here with you and having to fight my urges, it’s so hard.” His words were soft, quiet. His body relaxed against Hannibal’s as he felt the man’s face nuzzle into his soft curls.

“There’s nothing stopping us from giving into our urges, but I think we should keep to your virtues, Dear. You wanted to wait and wait we will.” He assured him, “That dream that you had wasn’t true. Dimmond may be attractive, but he’s a whore who only wants to get fucked.” He practically growled. Will immediately knew that Hannibal had had some sort of a negative interaction with the young boy in the past. Will was determined to find out what had happened.

“What did he ever do to you?” He laughed, pulling back to look at his hunter who rolled his eyes exasperatedly, shaking his head.

“Oh don’t get me started.” Hannibal laughed as well, bringing his hand up to stroke Will’s cheek with his thumb. A warm blush spread across his cheeks, his eyes closing as he felt Hannibal’s touch against his cheek. He smiled softly,

“I have to get some work done today while everyone else is away… Where are they anyway? Everyone just disappeared this morning and I don’t know why. People don’t tell me anything.” Just then, as Will was about to throw a fit over not being given any information, a loud call came screeching through the forest, like the type of call the seamen used to announce their siege. Will’s eyes widened and he looked up at Hannibal, knowing immediately that they were in danger. Before he could even speak, Hannibal shoved him down behind the wall,

“Stay here. Don’t move. I’m going to see what’s going on and you’re going to wait here until I send someone to get you.” He looked into Will’s eyes for a moment and the boy suddenly felt fear wash over him. He nodded and closed his eyes, curling up small so that he absolutely couldn’t be seen. He listened as Hannibal’s footsteps disappeared quickly into the forest.

Hours passed and there was still no sign of Hannibal. He could hear screaming and crying from the village, knowing that people were dying and he was just laying here. He just hoped that his hunter would be alright, hoped that he’d come and get him soon and they could hide away together.

He never came back.

  



	3. 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham has to manage without Hannibal Lecter.

********

_“You’re doing beautifully, Will. You look stunning.” The grunt came from above him, filling the air with the sweet note of his hunter’s voice._

_His cheeks burned with the praise, his fingers running into the man’s hair, tugging on the soft, sweaty strands. He felt hands against his chest, gently running over each of his nipples until they peaked and sent sparks through his body. He began to squirm away from the feeling, squeezing his eyes tighter shut, the shockwaves becoming more akin to pain than pleasure._

_“No… Stop, it doesn’t feel good anymore… stop!” He cried as the man tried to push a finger into him, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks as he begged for it to stop. Suddenly he felt a hand join his, entwining their fingers together like all those times at the Well and for a moment, he was distracted from the pain he was feeling, instead, remembering a happier time when it was just them, together, against the world. He finally accepted the fingers, sinking down onto them obediently._

_“You’re doing so well, so so well.” The voice whispered close to his ear, causing Will to shiver and smile, leaning up close to it, wanting to feel it, taste it. He wanted to devour his lover, but he remembered the rules and he refused to break them for fear of what would happen to him if he did._

_Don’t kiss. Never kiss._

_As the fingers were finally pulled out and he was suddenly filled with the thick shaft of his hunter’s cock, more tears were pulled from his eyes and with them, a loud moan of pure pleasure, his body pushing back against the feeling,_

_“That’s it, take my cock. Good boy. You feel so wonderful, my little Sculptor. We’ve waited so long for this.” Hannibal’s voice spoke to him softly, grunting quietly as he moved steadily in and out, the head of his cock hitting his prostate each time and tearing moans from his throat, incoherent mumbling of thanks and soft begging so for more._

_“Put it back in….” he mumbled softly when he felt empty, his hole clenching around nothing at all. He reached up for purchase on skin as the hands disappeared from his own, crying out as he felt the length push back in ferociously, taking no mercy on his poor raw body. This wasn’t the loving touch he knew. This was painful._

_He cried, begging, “Please stop! It hurts! It hurts!”_

_“It’ll be worth it, sweetheart, you’re going to feel so good. Just let me finish.” The voice soothed, running gentle fingers through his hair. With a few more harsh thrusts, Will felt the man still, hips jutting slightly in response to his orgasm, a moan filled the room as Will yelled out,_

_“Hannibal!”_

“Who the fuck are you thinking about, boy?” A grunt came as a man tucked himself away into his trousers, running greedy, sweaty fingers through his disgusting beard. Will looked away from him, growling quietly,

“Your time is up. Get out.” He began pulling his clothes back on in order to keep warm while he waited for the next client. Since the war had broken out, Will had spent each night selling his body to the invaders, hoping that if they liked his service, they’d spare his and his mother’s lives. The pain and fear that filled him every night had broken him down to such a level that he wasn’t even sure if he was even human any more or merely a toy to be played with and discarded when the user got too old or bored. He had learned to just take what he got and not complain about it. If he didn’t complain, they enjoyed themselves and he and his mother lived another day. Whether that was a good thing or not was undecided.

His sixteenth birthday came and went with no sign of Hannibal Lecter to be seen. The war raged on, people running and fearing for their lives, doing everything under the cover of darkness to protect themselves.. During the day, the people of his village hid in their homes, staying completely silent in the hopes of avoiding being found by the violent savages that had decided to take their home as their own. Will had watched as his friends were taken away to the middle of the village where they were beheaded and left to fester and rot in the dirt. Will had heard their screams, he had heard them stop suddenly and heard that all too familiar ‘thump’ on the ground.

Will hid beneath the covers of his bed, listening to the sounds of large heavy boots running past his home, praying that they wouldn’t come into his cabin. He listened to the familiar sound of a body being dragged along the ground or a fire crackling nearby that he knew would likely set his house alight. He couldn’t think of which way was worse for him to die, freezing to death, burning to death or being beheaded in the village square for all to see.

His nightmares had gotten worse, twisted visions of men above him and scratching at his his arms, legs and face. They mocked him in voices that burned his brain, screeching and laughing at him for his innocence and lack of experience, whispers of, ‘Princess’ and ‘slut’ filled his mind, jeering him and reprimanding him for being a ‘bad little boy.’

He woke up every night around four in the morning, sobbing and screaming for someone, for Hannibal, to help him out of this living hell. He would curl up in a ball and cry for his love to come back, for him to be safe.

Somewhere deep inside him, he wished that he had come out from behind the well that day and followed Hannibal, fought alongside him, died with him. He wished that he had walked over the threshold of Hannibal’s cabin and allowed him to take him, to have him the way he had imagined so many times while some invader had his way with him. But he had insisted on waiting until he was old enough, insisted on Hannibal courting him until he was old enough.

Now he regretted it, regretted how proud he had been, regretted playing hard to get with a man who was truly too good for him. Who was too kind for his own good.

A man who was surely dead by now.

In his grief, he had taken to going to Hannibal’s cabin and sitting outside, waiting for him to return so that he could run inside and hold him, nudge his face into his hair, kiss him like he had wanted to do for so long. So so long. He’d wait from the moment he finished his nightly rounds of the village to when the sun threatened the horizon, giving him the sign that he needed to run back to his cabin before he got into any trouble.

On a Tuesday morning, around four, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Will found himself completely unable to move from where he sat, his thoughts clouding his judgment. It was only when the sun began to warm his face that he realised he was in trouble. Big trouble. Yet, he sat there, completely bound by his imagination as visions of himself and Hannibal walking through the cabin, laughing and joking and just… being themselves.

It wasn’t until he felt the arms around him, trying to drag him away to the town centre when Will finally reacted, screaming and flailing to try and escape his attacker’s grip. He bit at his skin, tearing a chunk away with his teeth and spitting it out quickly as he was released onto the ground, his attacker recoiling and screaming in pain at his injury.

He scrambled up to his feet and began sprinting through the woods, not even bothering to look back. He knew he was being chased. The sound of very heavy and clumsy footsteps became more and more distant as his legs carried him further and faster than the lumbering Viking could run. The sounds of the forest soon encased him, the unassuming singing of birds who had no idea of the horrors that were befalling the humans beneath their trees, the crunch of leaves around his feet as he squashed them with his quick footsteps.

He took deep breaths through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he reached a familiar site. The Well that he had known a year ago, the place where he had loved and lost Hannibal Lecter. He leaned against the structure, coughing and spluttering as his breath caught on the cold air, freezing his lungs to their core.

“Is anyone here…?” He called out cautiously as he steered himself away from the opening of the Well in case someone were to jump him and throw him into it. He shuddered at the thought of dying alone at the bottom of a well. He’d much prefer a quick and easy beheading.

When no reply came and he was satisfied that nobody was lurking in the trees, he made his way to his and Hannibal’s old haunt, sitting behind the well, surrounded by overgrown bushes and trees. The shock of almost being caught wore off and all that he could do was break down, hugging his knees as his sobs caught on the air, choking him. He tried to imagine that Hannibal was just gone off on a journey with the rest of the hunters, tried to imagine that this whole war was nothing but a nightmare that was taking too long to wake up from.

He was alone here, completely alone for the first time in his life. His mother was probably glad of his absence and had likely already began her search for a husband. She’d try to start her life again, but they all knew that, at thirty-five, she was likely coming up to her final years of life.

Hannibal would have been… well Will couldn’t really remember what age he was. It had never seemed like the most important thing to him. Will let out an anguished cry as he thought again of his love. He realised that if he didn’t try to find a husband or a wife soon, he’d die alone, but he loved Hannibal. He didn’t want to let go of him. Not yet. Not while there was still hope. But he couldn’t remain so caught up in this fantasy that the true love of his life was going to come back and sweep him off his feet either because that just wasn’t going to happen.

“He’s dead… I know he’s dead, I just refuse to believe it. He’s been eaten by wolves by now…” he spoke out loud, hoping that if he said it to himself, it’d make it real.

“But what if he’s not? What if he’s back in town, waiting for you to come back?” The other, more hopeful part of his brain tried to convince him.

“No. If he were alive. He’d be here. He knows that this is the place where I’ll be looking for him.” He groaned, too conflicted to come to a solid decision. He buried his face in his knees, defeated.

“Is someone here?” A voice rang out through the trees. Sharp as a bell on the air. Will froze, not daring to even breathe as the voice came closer, calling, “I won’t hurt you!” It was definitely female. A young female at that.

His breathing quickened as the voice got closer and closer, leaves crunching beneath hesitant feet. Suddenly, he stopped breathing altogether as the bush he was using for cover was pulled back and he was revealed to the woman. She frowned, looking him up and down as if she was seeing something she had never seen before. Will tried to avoid eye contact as she began to kneel down in front of him, examining the various cuts and scratches on his arms with a furrowed brow,

“I’m Abigail. Are you alright? Did they try to get you too?” She spoke softly, tilting her head up to show the marks of a knife blade across her neck, “They tried to catch me, but I ran here, same as you. The most wonderful thing happened though. A man found me, much like I found me, much like I found you…” she seemed far too hopeful considering the situation, but who was he to complain? This girl might be able to help him.

“Will.” He mumbled, sitting up straighter so that this girl didn’t just think that he was some scared little puppy. “Look, I can’t go back to my town. I know that it’s probably not a good idea, but if you’re offering help, I’m going to take it.” She looked slightly confused, tilting her head to the side, causing the wound on her neck to weep slightly.

“You’re welcome to come home with us, Will. We love hosting people.” She smiled widely, standing up and offering a hand to Will which he took, hoisting himself up with her help. It was only now that he realised how cold he really was, beginning to shiver as soon as he felt the air against his skin. “Follow me!” She laughed excitedly and began skipping up the pathway, humming a tune to herself as she went.

Something was off about all of this, but Will was too broken down to care. He followed the girl through arches of trees that let little to no sunlight in, into large open spaces where the trees and bushes had long since been devoted to farmland. The cold air whipped past his ears, deafening him to a point where all he could hear was the squealing hum of Abigail’s tune and little else. He jogged slightly to keep up with her as her speed seemed to increase.

“Keep up, lazy bones!” She called back to him with that same, unsettlingly sweet laugh that seemed too good to be true. She picked up speed again until Will was running after her, darting through the underbrush as she swerved around trees and bushes. He was tripping over his own feet by now, so out of breath that he couldn’t see straight anymore.

Eventually, to his relief, Abigail slowed, disappearing under a tree after waving her hand enticingly toward him. He followed obediently, ducking in under the tree and taking in the sight. Deer skins were hung around branches, draped in a tent shape. It was well hidden and very remote which explained why they hadn’t been found yet.

Carefully, he walked into their little tent, looking around as he tried to see where Abigail had gone. The tent wasn’t that big. He shivered again, finding that the cold wasn’t well shielded in here. He glanced around again, stepping further into the room. Where could she possibly have-

Suddenly, a hand was over his mouth, a big, strong hand. He instinctively bit down on the hand, hearing a groan from behind him, but the grip never let up, squeezing until his jaw hurt and his eyes welled up. He heard Abigail’s laugh ring out behind him before everything went black.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be in six parts  
> 15  
> 15.5  
> 16  
> 16.5  
> 17  
> 17.5  
> This is meant to be Will's age as the story progresses.


End file.
